


From the Ruins

by issabella



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Angry Erik, Canonical Character Death, Charles has secrets, Dragon Charles, Dragons, Erik wants revenge, M/M, Shaw is an evil necromancer, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-21 09:23:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1545788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/issabella/pseuds/issabella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where the ‘cursed’, those gifted with strange powers, are destined to be reviled and mocked - and at worst, killed - if they can’t hide what they are, Erik, the ‘cursed’ son of Countess Edie of Eisenhardt grew up in peace and acceptance until his world was shattered by a powerful necromancer. </p><p>Now years later, it is the eve before General Erik is to lead his men into battle against the necromancer’s deadly army. All seems hopeless until Erik receives a nighttime visit and is offered a chance at not only victory but vengeance as well. And so with nothing to lose he takes up the offer from the mysterious Charles Xavier.  But if they succeed and once the necromancer is dead - what will happen then? When long kept secrets are exposed, when things turn out to be different than what they seemed, and the world suddenly turns against him - where is Erik to go from here?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this gifset, http://issabella.tumblr.com/post/80997473901/  
> for which Ohteepeeh asked a story for. (She used sweetest honeyed words, so how could I resist!)  
> Again this story was put in the hands of my trusted beta [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) to make my writing sound like I knew how to English. (No commas were hurt in the making of this fic!) She also had a hand in polishing off my wobbly summary for this little epic. Thank you so much!

The night was dark, the moon nothing more than a barely visible crescent appearing from time to time between black clouds. The camp was filled with tension, an uneasy murmur eddying between the tents and for those who managed to drift off, wrapped up in worn blankets, found their sleep filled with dire shadows.

Erik couldn't sleep, though he needed the rest badly. Tomorrow at dawn, they would march from the camp and head north to battle. A foray to hold off the necromancer's troops that would come spilling out from the mountains like a suffocating dark wave. Erik stopped, shook his head to dislodge the ominous thoughts and stepped closer to one of the camp-fires where some of the men had gathered. He smiled, even if it was only tight-lipped, clapped several of them on the back, dragged out some grim yet encouraging words.

He felt tomorrow's shadow upon them, yet he refused to give in to despair before he had even laid eyes on the enemy troops. That would come soon enough, but till then - it wouldn't do to lose the battle even before it had begun.

It seemed he could only achieve this much, as he turned away to continue his round, the mood around the fire seemed a little lighter – in the end it darkened Erik's thoughts, because it was a lie, there was no hope. He was their General, they trusted in him, even if tomorrow he would lead them to their certain death.

 

Movement in the shadows caught his eye. The shape was moving lighter on its feet than any soldier would, swift and sure despite the darkness and heading straight for Erik's tent. Erik frowned, thought for a moment of an assassin, before certainty filled him. He cut his round short, heading purposefully forward.

No guards were stationed at the entrance, not tonight. The necromancer didn't need to send assassins; easier to let fear trickle steadily into their minds and weaken them for tomorrow's battle. He pushed the tent-flap aside. An oil-lamp on a table was the only source of light, rousing the shadows to dance around the hooded figure waiting for him.

The figure turned around without haste, as if already certain who it was that had entered.

A hand emerged from the tightly drawn cloak and pushed the hood back. Even the dim light didn't manage to dull the bright blue eyes, that were fixed on Erik. The face was young, innocent looking, the hair ruffled from the hood, the pale skin taking on a golden sheen in the flame's light. Erik felt the sudden urge to reach out, curious if the skin was warm or cold from the night-air – if he was even real. He clenched his hands to fists to quell any temptation.

Yet he was certain the young man had read his intent as easily as if Erik had voiced that thought out loud. He knew what Erik thought and the thoughts Erik didn't even know he had. So in the end what did it matter if Erik restrained his impulse or not, it was all bared to the blue eyed gaze.

The intrusive clank of metal from soldiers passing by the tent made Erik tense. “It's dangerous for you to be here.” Erik's voice came out gruff.

“The army is still far enough away.”

Was he deliberately misunderstanding? Erik shook his head. “That's not what I'm worried about. If any of the men find you here, on the night before a battle, they'd tear you to bits.” And maybe they'd be right. Cursed – not human – Sorcerer. They'd be convinced his very presence was enough to condemn them all.

“But you wouldn't let them, would you now, Erik.” The young man smiled and those red lips were like a siren's call.

Erik took a step forward before he caught himself, hand closing around the pommel of the sword handing at his side. “Against the whole camp, I'm not sure I could protect you.”

“They all wear armour, they all carry weapons, so much metal, surely...”

“Don't! Don't - say it, Charles.” Erik gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. _'Cursed.'_ “Why are you here?”

For a moment it seemed like the young man wouldn't stop, but taunt Erik further. There was that telling smile, playing around his lips, hinting at Charles' intent to tease him, rile him up, see what it would take to make Erik snap. Yet surprisingly his expression sobered. He turned his head, looking at the weapons neatly stacked beside Erik's camp bed.

Erik watched the flickering light cast shadows to dance over the pale skin. It made Erik's flesh crawl with an ominous feeling. It was not safe for Charles to be here - and after tomorrow no place would be safe – if they lost.

“I – There is something important I must tell you.” For a moment, Charles closed his eyes before he turned to look at Erik again, gaze unflinching. “I know of a way - to defeat Shaw.”

Defeat the necromancer? Erik thought he must have misheard. “What did you say?” Before Erik could even think, he was at Charles' side, grabbing his arm, ready to shake the answer out of him.

Charles didn't flinch away. “I know of a way to defeat Shaw. It's not easy and we must act now, but there is a way for you to get close to him, unaffected by his powers, and have a chance at killing him.”

“Now?” Erik was confused, hard pressed to process the words. _'Act now, kill Shaw, end this, kill him and - a chance for me – on my own.'_ Facing Shaw after all these years, the thought sent shivers down his spine. But if this was the way to achieve it, even if this was only a small chance he was given. Erik knew, they would not win the battle tomorrow. If they faced the necromancer's army, only torn flesh and splittered bones would remain, barely enough left over for the ravens to pick from their broken bodies. He was given hope – even so Erik's voice sounded as if it were coming from a long way off. “What do I have to do?”

Charles looked at where Erik had grabbed his arm. He twisted his wrist so his fingers brushed Erik's who let go, startled at the touch. “You need to shield yourself, not with metal, but with dragon's blood. It will make you immune to his powers.”

Erik reeled back. “Is this a joke? Where am I to find a dragon – and tonight. There is no time to go on a dragon-slaying quest.”

Charles frowned, the line on his forehead making him suddenly look more tired and weary. Erik became aware of dark circle under his eyes, the slight downward pull at the corners of his mouth. “I know where to find one. And there will be no need to slay it. I will make sure it doesn't attack or move and all you have to do is cut it and collect its blood.”

All sort of thoughts ran through Erik's head. _'You know where to find a dragon? You can control a dragon? Will this madness work?'_ Though he had heard about dragons being the only creatures immune to Shaw's necromantic magic. And Shaw, who never showed any weakness, had always been weary of the beasts, when one was reported to lurk too close to his taste. So maybe there was something to Charles' plan.

And then - he would still have to get close to Shaw, so close that he could sink a knife into the man's chest before the morning sun rose. He would then drag Shaw's carcass out for the necromancer's troops to see, and lose hope, and scatter while his own men, drawing from the triumph of victory, would drive the forces back before the defeated men had time to think or regroup.

It seemed like a foolish move, destined to fail. Erik stepped away from Charles. His gaze trailed to the tent-flap, beyond which lay darkest night and his men's dwindling courage. As he turned back, Charles stood there waiting silently for him, bathed in a lamp's flickering flame, a tiny glimmer of hope.


	2. Chapter 2

For over an hour, they had ridden north at a walking pace, at first, the darkness preventing them from going faster. Erik had turned his head several times, looking back at the camp, visible by the camp-fires in the dark. He wondered when they would notice their General was missing. Would they think that he had abandoned them, fled the night before the battle to save his own hide? He gritted his teeth. He could tell no-one where he was going, not when it meant he had to reveal Charles' involvement. At court they might consider him the Queen's pet-cursed, an abomination corralled and controlled, performing tricks for their amusement. Out here among his men, Charles would only seem a bad omen, someone to lay blame to for all the ill that had befallen the kingdom because of Shaw. 

Erik sought out the figure in the dark. He had pulled up his hood again, wrapped the cloak tighter around his body, unapproachable.

Feeling his gaze or maybe only hearing his thoughts, Charles suddenly halted his horse. Erik had long since given up trying to shield what he was thinking in the younger man's presence. If he heard, so be it, he wasn't – he refused to be ashamed of his attraction to Charles. Though, either Charles didn't hear or simply didn't care, he never said or did anything more than throw a knowing smile or flirty jab Erik's way.

Charles reacting to it now would be rather ill-timed. But he seemed to hardly have looked in Erik's direction. Instead he dug into his saddlebags and pulled something out that seemed to weigh heavy in Charles' hand. 

Erik realised he could feel it, vaguely metallic. Suddenly there was a burst of light and Erik had to avert his gaze, blinking rapidly to adjust his eyes. As he looked back, there was a a perfectly spherical globe spinning above Charles' head, amethyst light streaming from it, illuminating them and their surroundings. Charles' horse barely flicked an ear in response, accustomed to Charles little tricks, but Erik’s own mount snorted and shook its head in irritation. Without thinking, Erik tightened his grip on the reins, his attention on the way the light seemed to deepen the colour of Charles' eyes.

Suddenly self-conscious, Erik felt just as foolish as his horse. He shook his head to to re-focus his thoughts while Charles turned towards the road again. “You have to stay close, but the light will be enough so we can go at a gallop.”

Erik nodded and urged his horse closer. It tried to resist at first but finally settled with one last shake of its mane. Erik wished he could shake off his irritating feelings as easily. “Alright, lets go then.”

 

It was odd, riding through the night, the purplish globe above their heads, shining like their own strange moon to light their way. Yet it still it took Erik a while to figure out where they were headed. Towards the mountains – close to the pass and Shaw’s lair. Convenient that Charles' dragon was on the way to their final destination.

He should have been more wary of Charles from the beginning, right when the Queen had introduced them soon after she had found out about Erik's powers. Erik pressed his lips together. Clearly she trusted Charles, just as she did Erik, it was too late to start growing suspicious now. 

 

And what did it matter - if he couldn't stop Shaw tonight, they would be all dead by tomorrow night anyway. And better to be dead – or die trying to stop him. He did not want to think of the events to follow, should he confront Shaw and fail. But he was spared the darkness of his own thoughts the road ahead demanding his attention as it transitioned from straight and smooth to more rocky terrain, slowly starting to wind slightly uphill, forcing them to cut down on their speed again.

Trees rose on either side of the road now, the terrain grew more and more steep and the road forked away to the left while Charles and Erik started to follow a narrow path between the trees and moss-covered rocks. The forest was eerily quiet; the animals clever enough to stay well away from a dragon's lair – unlike humans. 

Erik checked his sword, making sure he could draw it easily by hand or using his powers. 

Finally, Charles stopped. “We leave our horses here. No need for them to get agitated by the smell of dragon.”

“Or his roaring.” Erik muttered under his breath, but he did dismount and after a moment's hesitation, tied the reins to a slim tree close by.

“I promise you it will be under my control – completely.”

“Have you ever done something like this before?”

Charles looked at him. “Yes.” 

The single word sent a chill down Erik's spine, reminding him of the stark disparity between them, how little he knew of Charles, how much more Charles knew about him." 

Erik rubbed his sweaty palms across his thighs, then freed the saddlebags and slung them over his shoulders. He wasn't sure if the rope and throwing knives they contained, amongst other things, would do him any good, but he felt better taking them along. 

Without another word, Charles started climbing up a steeper slope in the hillside, the amethyst globe still spinning gently above him, lighting their way. Erik allowed himself a couple of deep breaths, before he followed.

Only as they reached it did Erik see their goal. A cave, half-hidden by low hanging branches of trees. Thick moss framed the mouth, bathed in the glow of thousands of fireflies making the gaping darkness beyond look forbidding. 

Erik knelt down to inspect the mossy ground, it seemed undisturbed and, Erik realised, the entrance looked significantly too small and narrow to admit a dragon's massive winged body. Sharply he looked at Charles, who had taken off his cloak, simply letting it drop on the ground.

_'It would be foolish of us, taking the main entrance to a dragon's lair now, wouldn't it.'_ Charles' thoughts were tinged with brittle amusement. _'You stay here. I will head inside and make sure it is docile. When I call you, you can come.'_

Erik nodded and reached for his dagger. Charles watched him. _'Best if you leave all other weapons outside. Remember, there is no need to kill or badly wound it. A shallow cut will suffice. Best cut it below the ribs, it will bleed well enough there. If you hurt it more – I won't be able to hold it back, and it WILL kill you, do you understand, Erik?'_

Erik was taken aback. As mad as it seemed, facing a dragon and not killing it, he had followed Charles this far, clearly it showed he trusted him, so he clearly could be expected to follow Charles instructions. _' Yes. Yes I understand. - What will I have to do with it, drink it?'_

Charles shook his head, looking slightly amused. _'No, you will have to bathe in it.'_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik faces a real dragon and then has to 'bathe' in its blood. Charles gets closer to Erik than he had ever been, though still remains distant and secretive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betad by: [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) who keeps the commas and words from spitting fire and biting me.

Erik crouched beside the mouth of the cave, back pressed against the mossy rock, ears strained to catch any sound coming from within. There had been something like a growl some moments before, then nothing. He looked longingly at his sword, laying atop the heap of saddlebags and his cloak, all vaguely illuminated by the fireflies, the only light he was left with. Charles had taken the glowing amethyst globe with him into the darkness of the cave. Erik only hoped the dragon wouldn't spot the light before Charles could find and take control of it. Though maybe it would take the light for a firefly's glow. He should have asked Charles how close he would have to be to slip into the beast's mind.

On an impulse, Erik reached out for his sword and unsheathed it once it slipped into his grasp. He felt its comforting weight in his hand and mind before he put it back down, reluctantly. But it would be easy to reach and call to his side, Erik reassured himself. 

_'Erik.'_

Charles' faint voice in his head brought Erik to his feet. He waited, hand gripping the dagger strapped to his side, but there was nothing else to be heard through mind or ears. Charles probably didn't have much focus to spare. Mouth dry and heart racing, Erik stepped into the engulfing darkness of the cave. The first unsure steps were a mere shuffling forward, Erik hardly able to see what lay before him. He stubbed his toe on a boulder and bit his lip to stop himself from crying out. Reaching out, Erik tried to feel what lay ahead and get his bearings of the surroundings, until he realised that he would have to try and scramble up some rocks that blocked his path. 

Reluctantly, Erik pushed the dagger back into its sheath at his belt and started to scrambled up the boulder on hands and knees, scraping his knees and bumping his arms against unseen obstacles on the way. Finally he reached what felt like the top and pulled himself up along an uneven stretch of wall to be rewarded by the familiar amethyst glow coming from up ahead. He was now able to see where he had to go, so his progress was much quicker as he scrambled over and between rocks forming a natural barrier between the cave entrance they had taken and the cave itself. Hand braced on the stone wall, he stopped and stared. 

The cave on its own would have been a sight to behold, the shimmering walls a glassy black streaked with veins of blue-quartz. But its mysterious beauty was overshadowed by the beast that sat in its midst, the glowing amethyst orb swaying right above it.

A dragon. Erik had heard of the beasts, though they were rare enough that he had never seen one before. That hadn't stopped him from forming a distinct picture in his mind, of a fearsome beast, scales rugged and sharp on a malformed body neither snake nor lizard-like, but an unsettling amalgamation of both, needle-sharp teeth the length of an arm set in a beak-like snout twisted in a frightening snarl . And he imagined the stench of blood and rotten things surging from the great maw.

This dragon was nothing like he had conceived. Its body was covered in scales, neither rugged nor dull, but shining copper and, where the light hit them just right, they shimmered in hues of green and purple. The wings were folded tightly to its muscular body, as was its coiling tail. It reminded Erik more of a cat than any lizards or snakes. 

Its head was majestically raised, the muzzle elongated as Erik had imagined it would be. Startled, he noticed the eyes, the colour of turquoise, that looked nothing like any animals' eyes but like it – knew...

Erik realised the eyes were looking directly at him. He pressed himself against the wall, trying to hide in the shadows. He barely moved his hand to call the dagger from its sheath into his grasp again.

The dragon didn't so much as flinch, its gaze never wavering, like as if frozen.

_'Charles – of course.'_

Slowly, Erik took a step forward, ready to throw himself to the side should the dragon spew fire or lunge for him. But it stayed as it was, unmoving, except for the slow rise and fall of its chest and the occasional sluggish blinking of its eyes. 

Not taking his gaze off the beast, Erik moved closer still, becoming more and more aware of the beast's size with every step. As well as of the deadly looking claws and ivory horns. The tapered spines were pointed backward, doubtlessly perfect for impaling anyone lucky and foolish enough to have climbed atop the dragon's back.

Halfway to the beast, Erik suddenly realised, that there was no sign of Charles. He stopped and looked around, tense.

_'I'm fine, Erik.'_ Charles' voice in his head still sounded like a faraway echo. _'Just hurry up, I won't be able to hold it forever.'_

Where are you? Are you really alright? It didn't hurt you? Erik wanted to fling those thoughts at Charles, but then kept them to himself. He might distract him and then this might end right here for both of them. So instead he continued forward, fighting back the rising, warning voices in himself that told him he was mad, approaching a dragon like this, with nothing but a dagger in his hand. A strangled laugh bubbled up inside him as he finally stood in front of the beast, the huge chest rising up in front of him. 

What if he simply plunged the dagger home, right into the beast's heart. It might be dead before it could tear itself from Charles' hold. His grip on the dagger loosened, as if his fingers were suddenly too weak to hold it and only his powers kept it from slipping to the ground. 

Was this Charles' doing, or his own mind warning him off?

Erik forced himself to grip the dagger tighter, pushing aside any thoughts of killing and focusing on finding the best place to cut into the dragon's hide, only deep enough to make it bleed. Cautiously, Erik reached out – his splayed hand inches from the dragon's chest and yet he could already feel heat radiating from the towering body. As his fingers finally came to rest upon the scales, he held his breath. 

There was a heartbeat, the scales felt warm, smooth and the edges flexible. A flicker of amazement flared up somewhere in the back of his mind. 'I'm touching a dragon – a real dragon. And it's not trying to kill me.'

The dragon's heartbeat was steady under his touch as he moved his hand at last and slid it along the beast's ribs, where they arched up towards its front leg. He hoped this would be the right spot as he put the dagger against the warm scales. For a moment, he looked up. 

The dragon kept staring straight ahead and all Erik saw was the underside of its huge jaw. “I'm not here to kill you...” He had no idea why he wanted to say it, why he almost felt regret for what he had to do, certainly it would hardly matter to the dragon, but he felt better for saying it. 

With that, he slid the blade against the dragon's flesh, his powers adding to the push and steadying the blade's trajectory for a clean, deep enough cut along the dragon's side. A tremble ran through the dragon's body, but it made no sound or moved away. Warm blood flowed over Erik's hand and involuntarily, he stepped back. 

He watched as the dark liquid streamed down, quickly pooling on the glassy ground, the same molten rock as the walls. They were lucky the blood wouldn't seep into the ground.

Erik took a few more paces back, aware of Charles' instructions. He was to bathe in it. But he found himself unable to even consider taking off his armour and clothes, while the dragon was still towering over him. As futile as his armour might be against the beast, he would not strip naked in its presence, even if it meant only shedding the illusionary protection.

All at once the dragon moved, unfolding its legs, rising before Erik, who stumbled back, cursing. 'Charles!?' He reached for his sword just outside the cave, and it came as called to his hand. Just as he was able to grasp the smooth pommel, feel the familiar weight, the dragon turned away.

_'Erik, no! Let him go! I'll make him go back to sleep...'_

Erik froze, standing there with sword and dagger raised, prepared should the dragon do something, anything aggressive.

Yet it now had its back to him and slowly slithered away into the obscured belly of the cave, the amethyst globe briefly swaying after it before it sailed back to where Erik stood, hovering above him. There was a last glint of copper scales and the beast was swallowed by darkness.

He listened, eyes trained into the darkness that seemed to have swallowed the beast. He heard a rumbling in the distance again, a sound like huge lungs exhaling with a grunt, then quiet descended. Slowly, Erik lowered his weapons, yet kept staring into the obscured recesses. Eventually, he heard the lighter sound of feet on stone and soon after Charles made it into the circle of light. He looked sickly pale and weary, and simply sank down on the stone floor once he reached Erik.

“Are you alright? Is the dragon...?” Erik couldn't help it, straining to see anything in the darkness ahead, still not wanting to let go of his weapons. 

“Asleep. And yes, I'm – I'm fine. This just took more ...” Wearily, Charles shook his head, then looked up at Erik with a small smirk. “But what are you waiting for, your bath is getting cold.” He gestured to the pool of blood.

Erik snorted, but convinced at last, put his weapons on the ground. He guessed he would only get around to cleaning the dagger once he himself would be able to wash off the blood – but first... With efficient movements, he started to strip, chain-mail and leather armour laid out meticulously on the ground before he got out of his linen undergarments. 

He tried to ignore Charles' gaze on him as he made his way over the smooth stone ground and stepped to the puddle of blood. The coppery smell filled his nose and for a moment, he stared at the dark liquid. It looked like ink in the unnatural light and against the backdrop of black stone underneath. It was far too shallow to really be able to bathe in it. All Erik could do was get to his knees in the blood and then smear it on his body. 

He pressed his lips together. Best not to give it too much thought. 

Careful not to slip, Erik knelt in the dark puddle. It still felt warm and sticky against his skin. He dipped his already stained hands into it and smeared blood further up on his legs and knees, dragging a wet hand across his belly. 

Suddenly warm, wet hands touched his back, scooped up blood that ran down his spine. “Let me help.” Erik jerked his head round to look at Charles.

Charles didn't look at his face, his gaze intent on the task, hands running over Erik's shoulder, up his neck and then down between his shoulderblades. Erik couldn't stop himself and he grunted as Charles drew his hands back, though it was only for a moment, before he rubbed more blood onto Erik's back, Charles' slick hands moving like he were giving Erik a massage, warm fingers pressing against Erik's skin and muscles underneath. It was the most intimate way he had ever been touched by Charles – and the wrong time to linger on it. Still he couldn't help noting how Charles' hands felt against his skin, sliding over every inch of his back to paint it red. 

“Don't forget to cover your face, head and - everything really.” Charles' words brought Erik back.

He pressed his lips together and wrinkled his nose as he got on with it. Erik was undecided on what was more disgusting, blood from his drenched hair dripping down into his face, mingling with the tacky mess already smeared across his face, or having to spread it all over his genitals. He had to stop for a moment, sucking in shallow breaths as his stomach suddenly heaved in protest.

“Almost done. Get up, so I can...”

Erik welcomed the distraction Charles' hand against his ass provided, embarrassment winning over the revulsion he had started to feel. He tried to hold still as Charles' hands scooped more blood onto his ass, the sensation of the sticky liquid trickling down the cleft revolting and arousing at the same time, especially as Charles' fingers slid between his ass-cheeks. Though the movement was quick and efficient, Erik felt his face heat with embarrassment and he used his hand to cover his genitals. He felt almost cheated as Charles moved on to the back of his legs. “I think that's it. Turn around and let me check.”

Erik's mouth went dry. 'Blood, I'm covered in blood, there is nothing arousing in that.' Erik willed down any other feelings that might try to take control of his body and slowly turned. Charles didn't get up but looked up at him from where he sat on the ground. His eyes scanned him methodically, then he licked his lips and Erik had to turn away again.

“Am I done?” His voice came out tinged with frustration, that Charles would hopefully ascribe to his feeling repulsed by his current state.

“Yes, looks like we covered everything. Just stay like this for a moment, it will dry quickly.”  
Erik stared down at his arms that had already started to feel itchy from the drying blood. “Won't it flake and rub off once it's dry?”

Charles gave a weak chuckle. “No. It's dragon's blood Erik, it doesn't act like normal blood. It's soaked into your skin. It will actually be hard to wash off. You'll need several baths – and use vervain-oil, that should help in getting it off.” He didn't look up as Erik turned, ready to snarl at Charles, feeling betrayed that he hadn't warned him. But Charles simply went on. “I'm sorry, maybe I should have explained, though – what difference would it have made?”

Erik closed his mouth. Charles was right, what other choice did he have?

And there was something else Charles was right about. The blood dried significantly quicker than he had expected and he could pull on his clothes again. Finally he stepped to Charles who had stayed sitting on the ground, probably exhausted still from controlling the beast's mind. “I don't feel any different.”

Charles sighed. “It will work, trust me.” With a grunt, he pushed himself up and then swayed.

Erik reached for him as he buckled, nearly not fast enough to catch him from toppling over. “Charles?” Charles' shirt was darkly wet and clung to his body. What Erik had thought to be only shadows, he now realised was blood. “What the hell happened?” 

Charles hissed as Erik pulled his shirt up, revealing an angry red gash across his ribs, pale skin smeared with blood making it hard to see how bad it was. 

“What the hell, why didn't you say anything? There are bandages in my saddlebags...” Erik tried to brace Charles and take most of his weight.

“I can walk – it's not that bad. Only a shallow cut...” Charles shook his head as if to clear it. “The dragon got me with its claws before I gained complete control over him. I only noticed after I sent him back to sleep.”

“You'll let me look at it once we're outside and I'll bandage it up.” Yet he gave Charles more space, just staying close enough, a hand on Charles' elbow, so he could move in any moment if need be. He spared a glance over his shoulder into the darkness of the cave. If there wasn't the necromancer to deal with, he would get back there and slay the beast.

“Really Erik – it was a small sacrifice to make.”

Erik just pressed his lips together as he helped Charles down the huge rocks and back out of the cave. There he had Charles sit down, sheathed his sword he'd had pulled after them with his powers, and then got the water-bottle and bandages from the saddlebag. 

He helped Charles out of the miraculously whole shirt, and carefully cleaned and bandaged the wound. “It looks like a very clean scratch, more like a cut.”

“Any dirt will have washed out with the blood I hope – and I guess dragon claws are unlike other animal's.”

“Didn't look that different to me – only larger.”

“So it's only a scratch – only larger.” The joke fell flat.

Erik looked up into Charles' blue eyes.

Charles shook his head. “It's not important. I'll be fine.”

Erik was worried about him, but Charles was right. The wound looked worse than it was, a shallow scratch, nothing more. Now that he was bandaged up – they had no time to think about it. And the sooner Erik faced Shaw, the sooner Charles could rest. “You'll be coming with me?” He hadn't given the night's plan much more thought than getting to the dragon first.

Charles' mouth quirked up into a small smile. “Of course I will, we have to get you past the necromancer's army, you will need more of my help, my friend.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -Erik had faced a dragon under Charles' control, a whole army was – child's play in comparison, right?-  
> To reach Shaw, they have to get through the enemy camp first. But in the dark waits a terror beyond Charles' controle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad my beta [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) still hasn't given up on me, despite me showing a certain inability to learn from some mistakes.  
> Also wanted to thank all who left kudos and commented. :)

Erik had lost all sense for the passage of time. With the thin crescent of the moon hidden firmly behind clouds, it could be midnight, or long past it. His body wasn't much help in grasping how late into the night it was as an strange blend of weariness and adrenalin coursed through him. Erik looked towards the horizon, fearing the sight of dawn creeping up on them before they had reached their destination. Yet everything was still dark.

The trip back onto the road took them less time than Erik would have expected and now they were headed straight into the mountain pass. Charles, wrapped in his cloak, was once again riding ahead, the amethyst globe lighting their way, though he was sitting hunched over in the saddle, hands gripping the reins tightly. Erik tried to push any worry for Charles aside. He didn't dare suggest a slower pace or even a rest, instead he kept his eyes trained on the road, trying not to think, just letting the horse carry him closer to his destination. Thus he almost missed it when Charles suddenly reined in his horse, and overtook him before he realised what had happened.

Charles gazed ahead into the distance and after a moment of silence, Erik urged his horse to come up beside Charles'.

“Charles, are you...”

“I can feel them now, we are almost at their camp.”

Erik couldn't see anything but darkness, and even his ears could not perceive what must lie before them, but he trusted Charles' word. “What now? We ride through their camp and you – cloud their minds?”

Charles sighed. “It won't be that easy, especially riding two horses. The closer we stay together, the better I will be able to mask any traces of us from their minds.”

“So we share a horse?” They wouldn't be able to pass through at full speed; his large warhorse could handle the added burden. Charles was smaller than him and after all, wore no armour, just his linen shirt, trousers and cloak. 

Absently, Erik rubbed his hand against a thigh.

Charles only nodded and slid out off his saddle. Erik saw him wince and lean against his mount for a moment, before he led it to the side of the road. There Charles tethered it to some tall bushes, loosely enough, Erik noted, so that it could tear itself free should it need to. 

Erik offered a hand up as Charles approached . “Are you alright?”

“A good nights rest and some potent herbs against the pain would be wonderful now, but since I can't have either, let's just continue on.” He took hold of the offered arm and Erik helped pull Charles up in front of him. That way he could make sure Charles wouldn't fall off - though if Charles lost consciousness, falling off might be the least of their worries, if they were to suddenly become visible amidst the enemy soldiers . Carefully he put an arm around Charles, mindful of where Charles had been wounded by the dragon. He finally settled his hand low on Charles' waist, conscious of the warm body underneath the spare layers of clothing. 

He had never been this close to Charles before. There had been nights when he had dreamt of holding Charles close against him, dreams that in some cases had turned into something vaguely more – but always a harsh awakening awaited him every time he opened his eyes and realised it had only been a dream – until now – when it was merely to ensure that they go unnoticed, and not because Charles had any real interest in having him so close. Oh Charles had flirted with him, but never done anything...

Erik stared down at Charles, and finally gave in to the urge to get closer still. Tilting his head to one side, to speak close to Charles' ear. Only...he hadn't given any clear thought on what he wanted to say, because anything he said now would not matter. All that mattered was killing Shaw, and for that Charles had risked being killed by a dragon, now braved an enemy camp and – Erik wondered – how far would he follow when Erik faced Shaw. Though he knew he couldn't ask it of Charles, he hoped Charles wouldn't leave him alone for that part of tonight’s journey. 

“I – thank you.” 

Charles' shoulders jerked and he turned his head, though he couldn't see Erik fully without twisting around in the saddle. “Don't thank me. It has to be done. Actually, I wish you wouldn't have to do all this.”

Charles stretched out his hand and the amethyst globe gently dropped into it. The light slowly faded, leaving them shrouded in the black of night once more. The horse shook its head and snorted, expressing the frustration Erik himself felt at being suddenly thrown into darkness again. He blinked rapidly, trying to adjust his eyes to the lack of light. Seeing vague shapes in the dark came easier than making out the meaning behind Charles' words. 

“I dreamt about killing Shaw. I want to kill him.”

“As I said, I wish you wouldn't have to.” Before Erik could reply, Charles went on. “It will be easier to divert their attention if we don't stand out too much, so we have to go at a walking pace – I only hope they have the soulless creatures herded in or tied down somehow, I won't be able to control a mind that isn't there.”

The soulless, maybe the necromancer's greatest abominations. Husks of human bodies with no mind of their own to control them. Few villagers had survived an attack to recount what happened. A red cloud descending over a village, the sounds of screams and choking filling the air and in the course of a day, a whole village transformed into Shaw's dead puppets. Every villager lay dead, their souls sucked from them, their animated corpses consumed by a single need: to kill and devour the living. The creatures had only instigated minor attacks thus far, as if Shaw was only toying with them - or had wanted to make sure those who dared oppose him would know what they would face in battle .

“They won't want them rampaging through their own camp, so I'm certain they will have secured them somewhere.” Erik urged the horse into a slow walk. He remembered Shaw showing him one of his creations, once. A mere husk, dead eyes, rotting skin, mouth twisted in an inhuman snarl as it tried to reach past bars to touch Erik's warm skin – and Shaw laughing.

Charles' hand settling on his pulled him away from his recollections, and none too soon. Erik almost gasped as they rounded a bend in the road and suddenly the enemy's base spread out before them. There were campfires, he could see sentries posted at them, though most of the camp appeared to be asleep, not much noise could be heard – everyone here confident of their victory tomorrow.

It seemed pure madness, wanting to ride straight into the camp.

Charles tightened his grip, his cold fingers closing around Erik's warmer skin. “Trust me.”

“Yes.” He had faced a dragon under Charles' control, a whole army was – child's play in comparison, right? He urged the horse forward again, trying to concentrate on finding a path near the outskirts, away from the mass of tents and campfires. Something that proved especially hard since they had settled right in the pass, hemmed in by walls of stone and steep hillsides, tents were crowding up against rock-walls too steep to pass on horseback. As they neared the first sentry, Erik held his breath. The two men sitting by the fire didn't look up but kept on talking. Erik was aware of the metal they carried, armour and weapons. If need be he could – But then they had already passed them and Erik let out a silent sigh. He wanted to pull Charles closer, let him know he was impressed, but they had still a long way to go and he didn't want to disrupt Charles' focus.

Erik shook off the ill-timed desire, and took in their surroundings. With a sinking heart,  
Erik realised how big the encampment was as they passed rows and rows of tents, far more organised than Erik would have hoped. If they didn't manage to do what they came here for, his own army would not be able to hold these forces back, they would swarm across the whole country and Erik had no doubt that Shaw would simply let them do as they pleased, plunging the whole land into chaos and destruction.

Suddenly Charles' fingers tightened again, making Erik rein in his horse.

“They are here, right in front of us. I won't be able to control them.” Charles' voice was but a mere whisper and Erik felt him shiver.

Erik didn't have to ask. “Shaw won't have them roam freely among the troops, they will be penned in. We will just ride past them.”

“Yes...yes I suppose so.” But despite his words Charles was shaking his head. 

Erik made sure he had his arm securely around Charles as he leant down, Charles' hair brushing against his lips. He tried to sound calm, even with the feel of Charles' quickening heartbeat resonating against his body, and his scent, a strange mix of sandalwood, smoke and sweat, filling his nostrils. “They can't wander about, they'll be used to soldiers moving past them, they probably won't even notice.”

Finally Charles nodded and Erik urged the horse on. He wondered what would happen to the soulless once Shaw was dead, and no longer under his control. Would they drop like puppets whose strings were cut or would they rampage freely? Hopefully, this would be over with before they could even be released, so destroying them would be a quick task. A wry smile crossed Erik's lips. In his thoughts, it sounded so easy, like it was as good as done – kill Shaw, kill the all powerful-necromancer, after having taken a dip in a bit of dragon's blood. 

If he didn't know Charles as he did, hadn't met him at court, hadn't know the Queen herself trusted him – he would never have had enough faith to go with this mad plan.

Erik noticed they were leaving the prominent campfires behind. Where the soulless were kept it was darker, fires burning only around the perimeter. After all the soulless didn't need light, warmth, or shelter. They were all milling about, a mass of bodies; Erik could only make out vague shapes as they passed the wooden pens. The sound of shuffling swelled, like more bodies moved in their direction as they rode by. For whatever reason, the corpses had notice them, and a low, groaning drone started that raised the hair at the back of Erik's neck.

Charles pressed his body against Erik's as if trying to get as far away as possible from the soulless husks that had once been human. His hand slid up Erik's arm, grasping him tightly. “They smell me.”

That didn't make much sense, Erik could hardly imagine them capable to tell one human from another, sorcerer or not. “Stay calm – it's probably the fear they smell – and not just from you.” He tightened his hold on the reigns, his horse snorting and shaking its head in increasing agitation. The pervasive stench of death that thickened with every step, together with the sounds of unseen predators in the dark, likely to blame for its nervousness.

Yet Charles' grip only tightened, became painful. “No, no Erik... we have to...” Charles made a pained sound, reaching up to his forehead. “Please, no...nononono....”

Erik felt a stab of panic that was not his own. He kicked his horse and it jumped forward before breaking into a full pelt in spite of the dark. The groaning around them rose in volume and behind them he could hear human voices calling out. Up ahead more camp-fires loomed again, which meant no more soulless yet also more sentries. “Charles... Charles please, you have to...” But Erik wasn't sure if it mattered anymore, if Charles had lost control and now the whole camp knew they were here, along with Shaw.

He bent low over the horse's neck, Charles held tight against his chest, trying to make up for the loss of stealth with speed. 

They reached the next line of campfires behind the soulless' pens, shouts coming from left and right and Erik was sure that at any moment now, weapons would be aimed at them. He reached out, determined to stop any attack when suddenly everything around them froze. All the metal stilled, shouts snuffed out, the sound of running ceased - everything except the snarling of the soulless. 

But Erik didn't stop, he rode on hard, reaching the lit area where he saw soldiers frozen in motion. Further, still further, and Charles gasped and the sounds behind them resumed. There were shouts, people running, but all sound was moving away from them, to where the soulless were penned in.

Erik slowed their horse to a walk. They seemed to have left the last of the camp behind and now only darkness and rocks stretched before them.

“They'll not remember us passing, they'll think – think there was nothing there, just the soulless acting strangely...” Charles sounded breathless, as if he had run the full stretch of ground the horse had galloped across.

“Charles, how – how are you feeling?” Erik wanted to see Charles' face, to reassure himself, even though he wouldn't be able to make much out in the dark anyway, except maybe by touch. But Charles was still slumped forward over the horse's neck. Erik made sure he was holding Charles and the reigns secure in one hand before he let his free hand run over Charles' neck, cupping the back of his head with his hand.

Charles took a shaky breath and tried to straighten. “Yes – I'm fine...” He slowly shook his head. “Just give me moment. Just a moment...”

“Lean back against me.” Erik tried to brace him against his chest, as best he could while sitting on horseback. He carefully moved his hand until he touched Charles' forehead and started to rub over it, in what was hopefully a soothing way.

Charles sighed and relaxed. “Thank you. I think I will have a headache after tonight.”

Erik smiled weakly. If only they would be alive after tonight. But he tried to suppress that thought before Charles could pick up on it. “We're close now...”

“Yes. Now we only have to find the entrance to the tower. I won't be any use for that though I fear.” 

Erik felt his throat grow tight. “Don't worry – I know where it is.” Before Charles could respond he added. “What did you mean by, they could smell you?”

There was a little pause before Charles said. “Blood – Erik – my wound, I'm still bleeding a bit.” There was a shrill edge to Charles' voice, as if he would break into hysterical laughter at any moment. 

“How bad is it. We have time to stop and change your bandages, we only have to get a little closer to the mountain where we can hide the light from the globe behind some rocks.”

Charles turned in Erik's arms, his face now close enough that Erik could feel Charles' breath against his face and make out something of a glimmer in his eyes. For a moment, Erik imagined leaning down and kissing the inviting mouth that he didn't need to see for his lips to find. He knew exactly how it looked, glistening wet for when Charles would lick it so often. He might be dead in the morning anyway...

“No.”

Startling, Erik straightened, heart racing while his face flamed hot from embarrassment.

“We don't have time for that. Look .”

Erik was more preoccupied with Charles' response, if he had meant the offer of changing bandages or the thoughts of kissing him, so when he turned he wasn't sure what he was meant to look for. Then he noticed, the sky in the east had taken on a somewhat lighter hue, the darkness slowly leaking out of the sky. Morning was creeping up on them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long climb through a dark tunnel.  
> Feelings of guilt and and burried memories.  
> An opportunity Erik can't let slip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very sorry this update took longer than intended. Had a bad week and then another plotcorgi imposed itself on me.   
> And of course [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts) saved me from embarrassing mistakes again.

Shielded by some rocks, they had left the horse loosely tethered out of sight from the camp. The slowly brightening sky meant time was trickling through their fingers like sand and much too soon, true morning would be upon them, heralding the hour of battle. They had two hours left, at best. Yet the spreading light made it possible to move swiftly, their target finally emerging from darkness, the high tower perched on the cliff looming stark against the lighter sky. 

Erik felt as if the heavy stones pushed against him, dragging him down into the memories that he kept hidden, in a place of his mind that was only rubble and ruins. But he knew he had to face them now, had to remember, because at the tower's base, rooted in the mountain, was a hidden and disused entrance he'd used once before.

He didn't dare look at Charles, simply hoped he was still too drained from controlling so many minds at once, that he wouldn't pick up on any of Erik's thoughts. Nevertheless he tried not to linger on the memories, but instead took the lead as they climbed up more rocks, from where they could get onto a narrow path. Once he reached it, he pressed on, feeling slightly nauseated at how well he still remembered the way, how nothing appeared to have changed, like he had run along here only yesterday.

His breathing sounded harsh to his own ears, though not loud enough to mask the sound of Charles' footfall behind him. Despite knowing it was only the other man following, he felt hard pressed not to turn around and look to reassure himself. _'He won't expect us – me. His focus will be elsewhere. We will simply slip in right under his nose, just as easily as I escaped...'_ Erik gritted his teeth, concentrating on these thoughts.

Finally he reached the heavy oaken door embedded in the rock, locked and bolted with iron, secure against a lock-pick and sturdy enough to withstand a battering ram. And easy for Erik to persuade the bolts to slide back and open for him. 

But instead, Erik crouched low, waiting for Charles to catch up to him. He let his gaze roam over the enemy camp that lay just below the boulder of rock they had climbed, far enough away that he had no fears of being overheard.

“I'm sorry I'm not up to matching your speed.” Charles sank down beside him, holding his side, every strained breath shallow and ragged. 

Being reminded of Charles' wound, made Erik feel guilty. Because it was his fault. 

X

_The morning-sun filtered through the crown glass windows, promising a warm spring-day outside, yet still too weak to warm the rooms of the large palace. It suited Erik, who felt the cold inside the palace matched the feeling spreading in his gut, as he announced his decision. “I'm the Queen's General, I have to go.” Erik felt all three pairs of eyes in the room turn towards him._

_It was Logan who spoke first. He sprawled in one of the room's low-backed chairs he had dragged to the large fireplace when they'd walked in, loading it with pillows pilfered from the bench running along the wall before settling down. “I get that. And you have land here you might feel obliged to protect. But still I think it's not really our fight and instead of throwing your lives away for them, you should just all leave for good. I've come and gone to the kingdom many times over the years and nothing ever changes, they still see us as cursed. Maybe this necromancer will open their eyes to what a real curse looks like. ”_

_“You have no idea what you are saying!” Erik snarled. “You think Shaw will stop once he has overrun the kingdom, you think there is a place far enough away to hide from him? He won't stop until the whole world lies in ruins, solely populated by his soulless puppets.” Without realising it, he had stepped closer to where Logan lounged, hand outstretched as if he wanted to seize him by every odd clasp and buckle on his brown leather doublet._

_Logan looked down to where the buckles twitched a little, clearly unimpressed.“So you really think marching straight against him will stop him? Obviously you haven't checked the reports on his army, or you wouldn't think this is anything but suicide. Reports say he even has gifted like us on his side. A point that makes me wonder...”_

_“Erik has read the reports.” Logan fell silent at Hank's interjection and turned toward the younger man sitting at one of the windows behind him. “I'm not very keen on dying for those who hate us either, but I have visited one of the villages left empty by the necromancer ” He pushed up his glasses before is gaze turned out the window. “He should be stopped. I know an army won't do it, but maybe together we can...”_

_“There is no time!” Erik stepped around Logan, towards Hank. Did he really have to shake sense into everyone in the room? Since Hank wore no metal, except on his belt, he would have to grab him by the collar of his blue doublet. Though he would probably regret it soon enough. Hank might appear tall and awkward, his boyish face adding to the impression, but once provoked he was quick and surprisingly strong – and still taller than Erik. Something he had learned shortly after their first meeting. Truth be told, he would rather go up against Logan – who would not stand idly by anyway, if he tried to grab Hank._

_So Erik refrained from trying to make them see sense with physical arguments. But he couldn't wait, couldn't stand back and they would have to see that. “We cannot hide and console ourselves with coming up with some miraculous plan one day. Shaw is threatening the kingdom now, and I will not step aside and let him take it at his pleasure, I will at least try and stop him!”_

_A brief knock, a mere courtesy, interrupted him before the carved and painted oak-door was pushed open_

_The Queen stepped into the room, the hem of her grey and blue court-robes dragging over the stone floor. Erik straightened and bowed while Hank jumped up to do the same. Logan at least sat up straighter and bowed his head. But she barely spared them a glance. She looked to the windowless side of the room, where Charles had been quietly observing, while leaning against a large tapestry he seemed to favour depicting a stylized forest with a unicorn trotting on one side of a small stream and a lion on the other._

_“Erik, I would like a word with you before the war-meeting starts.” She only gave him a brief glance then she looked back at Charles again._

_“Of course-”_

_“But first, I need a word with Charles, alone.”_

_Puzzled, Erik finally looked between her and Charles, who had stepped away from the wall, into a ray of sunlight that gave his brown hair a coppery shine. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, sleeves rolled up, skin pale against the sand-coloured shirt._

_Logan hoisted himself out of the chair, following Hank who was already at the door. “Guess that only leaves the two of us then...”_

_Charles had turned his back to the Queen as Erik slipped out of the room. “I told you I can't help you...”_

_“Please Charles, I need you to reconsider. My army is no match for what the necromancer threatens to throw against us.”_

_Erik was curious about what he had overhead but guiltily, he finally pulled the door properly shut and stepped back. Only to have it torn open moments later. He had to sidestep quickly, or Charles would have run into him._

_“Don't ask this of me. I told you I cannot help you.”_

_Bewildered, he watched Charles disappear down the corridor._

X

Charles had denied the Queen's appeal then and yet here he was, because he had wanted to help Erik. Erik felt the urge to reach out for Charles, to make sure Charles knew he would undo the pain for him, if only he could – and go back and slay that dragon – and not ask more of him. But he kept his distance, hopeing it would be enough to keep Charles from following him down this path of memories. To keep him from reading too much of what Erik wanted to hide. 

“You should stay down here.” He had needed him to get through the camp, but he should not press Charles to follow him further – as much as he wished he would not have to do this alone.

Charles shook his head. “You may still need my help. I'll catch my breath, while you open the door.”

Erik wanted to argue (he knew he should), but then he turned away from Charles and put his hands on the sturdy oak door. When Charles saw the route awaiting them, he would certainly change his mind. Though there was a part of Erik that hoped he would stay with him, no matter what.

The lock was as he remembered, nothing seemed to have been changed. Of course he had no way of knowing, if Shaw hadn't bespelled it. Years ago, the lock had been ordinary, not tampered with, and Shaw was arrogant; entirely sure of himself and his powers, he wouldn't have bothered with such an insignificant entry. Maybe Shaw hadn't even realised how Erik had escaped, or he knew no one else had discovered this entrance, and was certain Erik himself would never dare set foot in the tower again. 

The feeling of something tightening around his throat, as he slid back the intricate bolts of the lock, was purely in his imagination. _'The irony - breaking in through the door you broke out of.'_ But he shushed the voice quickly, lest it be overheard.

He pushed against the door, met resistance, then reached out for the hinges. A frown of concentration creased his forehead, while he ran invisible fingers over the metal surface, rubbing away the rust, smoothing out the metal until the door swung open effortlessly without making a sound. 

Cold air wafted against his face, carrying with it the smell of rock and iron. It was the only hint of what lay beyond, everything else lay in darkness. Erik grasped the door-frame hewn in rock, knowing he had to step inside, yet wanting to push himself away. It was too late to turn back. Resolutely he moved forward, his senses that had nothing to do with sight, smell or hearing directing his hand to firmly grasp the iron ladder fastened to the rock a few steps to the left. 

The memory of getting down here all those years ago was a blur. It was dark inside the tunnel and he had been following the metal, going down and down, crawling, sliding on hands and knees, time and self-awareness growing dull and distant in the darkness. 

Suddenly the purple globe spun past him and up along the ladder, illuminating the steep and narrow path upward, the only way to go.

Erik heard Charles' resigned sigh. “This is not the main entrance, I gather.”

“No.” Erik's voice echoed strangely in the narrow space that stretched out infinitely above them.

“How far do we have to climb that ladder?”

“There will be steps, and more ladders... It goes up to the base of the tower, from there we only have a staircase left to the very top.” Erik waited for a question that never came.

“Then let's start climbing.”

“You don't have to come.” He was repeating himself, but any real argument he brought forth might dissuade Charles from staying close to him as they ascended.

“The view must be better from up there than down here.” Charles' voice was tinged with dry humour.

Erik swallowed, feeling guilty nonetheless. What if Charles knew that he needed him with him, and that was why - “The view won't be pretty, if we don't move fast.” Without looking back, he started climbing.

“You won't have to wait for me.” The reply was sharp.

Erik was about to turn around, and admit out loud the selfish desire of needing him at his side when facing Shaw, even if it meant Charles would be in pain. But before he could, he felt Charles touch the ladder and hoist himself up, step by step, steadily following Erik.

X

The climb up was different from how Erik remembered climbing down. For one, there was light now and not only the feel of metal to guide him in the darkness.

For another, he felt a purpose, focused on getting up, getting to Shaw, ending this. He had only been filled with the mindless horror of flight as he had escaped, without a goal other than a very vague sense of getting far away from this place. 

And this time, he was not alone. 

He found himself focusing on the sound of Charles' breathing, coming more and more heavily from behind him, but he kept up, never asking to stop. Clearing the first ladder, they reached a small landing carved into stone from which another ladder stretched upwards. Then stairs cut into the stone, narrow with a slight twist. With one hand braced against the wall, Erik continued on, and on. More ladders, more stairs, one step after the other until they reached the very treacherous section he vaguely remembered and was glad he hadn't been able to see at the time. For he might not have made it had he seen what they had to overcome now.

One ladder ended against an almost flat rock surface, while the next started to the right, just out of reach. He remembered swinging from the ladder as he'd made it down, feeling the next one beside it with his powers and then jumping. He had known he had been lucky, just not how much. 

For a moment, Erik contemplated the possibility of taking bits of metal from the ladder they had just cleared, making the two ladders connect. But he wasn't certain he could make it stable enough, not without wasting too much time on it. 

So he let his fingers glide over the rock until he found a slim purchase. He moved carefully, staying balanced on the ladder with his feet, while he approached the other ladder, reached for it with his mind, stretched his body as far as it would go then pushed off. 

For one instant it felt like he was floating, suspended between the two ladders, then his hands grasped the lowest rung. Grunting, he pulled himself up until his feet found purchase again. 

Erik looked back. Charles wouldn't be able to follow him on his own. He found Charles' blue eyes fixed on him, a look of amazement in them as he stared, lips parted. “You know, I think with your ability, you might be able to fly.”

Erik frowned. He had spent years using his powers only in a discreet way, making sure no one would notice. Flying about was in no way subtle. 

He stretched his powers towards Charles, but found there was too little metal on him to be of much use in drawing him closer, so instead he reached out an arm. “It would be of more use now, if you could fly.”

Charles' eyes widened and he gave a startled laugh. “I won't go sprouting wings in here, sorry to disappoint. But I think this will work just fine.” He reached out to grasp Erik's arm. Startled, Erik realised how dark his blood-soaked skin looked compared to Charles' pale own – and how cold Charles' fingers felt. 

“Push yourself off, I've got you.”

Charles didn't hesitate to follow Erik's words, his grip tightening as all at once his full weight hung on Erik’s arm – suddenly he paled with a gasp. A searing stab of agony hit Erik, almost blinding him for a second. Erik felt Charles' fingers slipping from his. 

“Charles!” Erik grabbed for him with his other hand, locking himself to the metal of the ladder with his powers. Groaning, he pulled, felt Charles grab for his arm, his grip tightening once more through a haze of pain. _'Just don't let go, don't let go...'_ Everything blurred and then he had Charles, on the ladder, next to him, Charles' hands grasping a rung, while his feet were firmly planted on another. Erik held onto him, pulling him close against his body, panting, not from exhaustion but pure relief. _'So selfish, I should have insisted he stay behind, he is hurt, damn it, because of me, my fault...'_

“Erik...” Charles wheezed.

_'I knew he was wounded and what the climb is like, only because I ...'_

_'Erik!'_ Charles' thought felt like a mental slap. “Erik, this is not your fault. You could not have made me stay behind. I'm sorry I'm slowing you down, but I will not have you face Shaw alone!” Charles' eyes were intent on him, then there was Charles' hand, cupping his cheek, cool, yet Erik felt his face grow hot under the touch. He was so close, and in his arms, the only thing real and alive in this senseless tunnel.

Erik dipped his head down, his lips brushing Charles' before he opened his mouth for a deep kiss. Charles didn't move back, didn't push him away and for one glorious moment, Erik's senses filled with the smell, taste and warmth of Charles before he realised Charles wasn't responding. 

Erik felt a tiny sting at that, but was unable to regret the kiss. This might be the last chance he'd get. With a mere shadow of a smile at his lips, Erik drew back, just as Charles swayed forward, as if he regretted not kissing him back. For one unreal instant, the tip of Charles' tongue ghosted over his lips, then it was gone, and Charles had turned away, facing the ladder, as if this interlude had never occurred.

“We have to keep going.” Charles' hands tightened on the ladder, Erik could feel his grip distractingly clear.

“Yes – of course. Can you manage?” Erik had to will himself to let go of Charles, transferring his hold to the ladder once more.

“Staying here is hardly an option, and I hope the way further up will be shorter than the one down.”

“Of course – but you go first.” Erik wanted to make sure he wouldn't miss it, should Charles need to pause or help climbing on.

As he hesitated, it looked like Charles meant to protest, his gaze focused on Erik, his parted mouth creating the impression he wanted to say something, but then he only gave a curt nod and continued upward. Erik let Charles gain a head start, before he followed.

 

X

 

Light came in through the high windows, paned with glass. They stretched along the outer wall of the circular corridor, that encompassed the very top of the tower. The floor was polished marble, the colour of old bone (that's what Erik always had imagined it to be), made to reflect the light from candles or the sun. The walls were left bare of any tapestries as well, the pale stone smooth and streaked by black and grey veins. In its richness it could easily match any corridor in the palace, but it was a cold and empty splendour.

There were no candles burning now, but sunrise could only be moments away. Time for the armies to march. They were so close to reaching Shaw, still it felt almost too late.

No guards were posted in the empty corridor, the only people they had encountered so far had been down where they had emerged from the secret passage into where the storage rooms and kitchens were. Charles had reacted quickly and sent them to sleep. From there their path had been straightforward up a flight of regular stairs and though Erik's thigh's ached from the seeming endless climb through the dark tunnel, he had taken them at almost a run. He had meant to wait for Charles once he reached the top, but Charles kept up and stayed close behind him. Only as Erik stopped did he too, breathing heavy and suddenly bracing a hand against Erik's back. _'I can't feel where Shaw is.'_

_'I know where he will be.'_ Yet Erik hesitated to move forward. He turned to Charles, who stood slumped forward, grasping his arm to steady him if need be. _'It's almost done.'_

Charles looked up at him and nodded. _'Don't forget, he isn't expecting this. We have surprise on our side and he doesn't know that you are immune to his magic, Erik. You can stop Shaw.'_ Charles withdrew his arm, but for an instant he let his fingers linger on Erik's hand, grazing over the red-stained skin.

For a peculiar moment, it felt as if Charles was touching him from the inside out, as if he was brushing every one of his nerve-endings, leaving him feeling oddly aware of himself. 

Erik straightened, cool air filling his lungs as he took a deep breath and stepped out into the corridor, following its curve determinedly. He didn't stop to look out the windows, he knew the view was breathtaking, but now all he would see was the army waiting for his men, ready to move out at any moment. It had appeared huge in the dark, he didn't want to get his estimate confirmed or see that the army was even larger. There could be only one task on which he had to concentrate now.

The corridor opened onto a wide platform ahead, that lay half under the cover of the tower's roof, while the other half sprawled out in a wide open balcony, from which one could overlook the pass and the mountains. A single door led from here back into the tower.

Erik pulled out his dagger. He would have felt better if he'd had his sword, but he'd left that with his horse. It would be easier to wield a dagger in the confinement of a room. His senses reached for the metal of the door, ready to open it quickly. If Charles was right and the blood would protect him, he would have a chance. Shaw would try to control him with magic, and before he would realise that he couldn't, Erik would charge forward and strike.

There was a small gasp from behind him. “I can't follow...”

Erik turned around sharply. Charles stood only a few steps back, hands outstretched, palms forward. He tried to reach out with one hand but then flinched back, as if he was stung. He shook his head, worry-filled eyes focusing on Erik. “I'm not sure why...”

Did Shaw know they were coming, was he keeping Charles deliberately out – but let Erik in? Erik felt himself grow cold, the grip on the dagger tightened. Panic rose slowly but steadily and he shook his head, like he could shake it off. There was no turning back now, nothing to turn back to. He had to at least try. Even if he knew they were there, even if he was deliberately keeping Charles out, that didn't mean he knew about the dragon's blood. He still had a chance. 

He gestured for Charles to stay back, emphasized by a whispered: “Stay here.”

With that, Erik turned away from Charles, to face the door and made that final step.


End file.
